Winifred Booth

Harwich , Essex , UK

"Born on Boxing Day, 1925, I first became aware of my sensitivity to the Spiritual world at the age of eleven. It has only been in the last fifteen years that I have been inspired to write on such matters, poetry being a much later achievement; in fact I did not even like poetry when I was younger! My present husband, Alan, twenty years my junior, has encouraged me in this. I have two sons and three daughters from my previous marriage, and have lost count of the number of grandchildren I have!"

The Past

The shadows and cobwebs, of bygone days,
Little urchins, living their ways.
Their faces all grubby, and eyes full of tears,
They looked much older, than their years.

Living in the dirt and dark,
Nowhere to play, not even a park.
No green fields, or buttercups too,
We were more fortunate, me and you.

Scuffy clothes, and a dirty scarf,
Hands outstretched, and with a sad laugh,
They would plead, for just a crumb,
Walk the streets, until they were numb.

Nobody cared about their plight,
As they wandered through the endless night.
Hapless and a homeless, burdened by sorrow,
Praying there would be a new tomorrow.

So my poem came form the past,
I hope they are happy, now at last,
Those poor souls, from the dark of night,
Into the arms of Eternal Light.

Evening

Gazing out of my window,
My heart filled, with a warm glow.
For Birds were there, on the Trees,
Swaying gently in the Breeze.

Then as the Sun went slowly down,
And Dusk fell silently all around,
At the end of the day, they came to rest,
Cozy and warmly, in their nest.

The Squirrels too, chattering away,
Of fun they'd had, during the Day.
But now a vigil, they must keep,
Protecting their young, while they sleep.

So life is calm, and life is still,
Nothing stirring, not until,
They wake to find, another Morn,
A new Day, and another Dawn.

When we will hear the song of a Bird,
the brightest music, you have heard,
Bringing us joy, one and all,
Groom all God's creatures, Great and small.